


Only you

by Rosalynn



Series: My Takarazuka Revue Writing Prompts [4]
Category: Don Juan - Takarazuka Revue, Takarazuka Revue Musicals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosalynn/pseuds/Rosalynn
Summary: In the end, there's one person who always has Don Juan's back.
Series: My Takarazuka Revue Writing Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749694
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Guess the author Round three





	Only you

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the weekly prompt writing challenge between international fans of the Takarazuka Revue.  
> Prompt: 'It had to be you'.

Don Juan woke up with a cold, wet cloth carefully placed on his forehead. He tried to open his eyes, but even the light of the candle next to him was too much to bear for his dreadful headache. Yet even without seeing, he knew he was home and lying on his bed, just from the silence and the texture of his sheets. Suddenly the sound of soft footsteps interfered with the peace.

“Who’s there!?” Don Juan shouted defensively and sat up straight, only to wince in pain and grab his head. 

“It’s me,” Carlos’ soft voice sounded. Two hands grabbed Don Juan’s shoulders and carefully pushed him back onto the bed.

“What happened?” Don Juan groaned. Carlos sat down on the edge of the bed.

“First you got ridiculously drunk at the bar,” he said, his voice a little exasperated, “And then you tried to seduce a girl whose boyfriend was there too. In the middle of challenging him to a duel you passed out and collapsed onto the floor, so I took you home.” 

“I wasn’t drunk,” Don Juan sulked, pressing his hand against the cloth in an attempt to stand his hangover induced headache.

“Please,” Carlos sighed, “I had to carry you on my back for at least half the way home.” 

Don Juan snickered, as Carlos knew he only did when he was drunk. Carlos took the damp cloth from Don Juan’s forehead and submerged it into the bucket filled with cold water he’d put next to the bed.

“Of course it was you,” Don Juan muttered, eyes still closed. “Who else would it be?”

“What’s that?” Carlos squeezed out the excess water.

“The one who took me home,” Don Juan continued. “It had to be you. No one else gives a damn about me.”

Carlos placed the cloth back on Don Juan’s forehead.

“That’s not true.”

Out of the blue, Don Juan grabbed his wrist and looked at Carlos with his piercing brown eyes, filled with drunk sincerity. 

“It is and you know it.”

Carlos didn’t know what to say. Don Juan let go of him and closed his eyes again.

“No one. Not even my father. Only you.”

Carlos looked down at his friend, but Don Juan didn’t elaborate. After a while, his breathing became steady, indicating he’d fallen asleep. Carlos rose to his feet and grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed. Careful not to wake him up, he covered Don Juan with it.

Just as Carlos wanted to blow out the candle, Don Juan softly said, perhaps in his sleep, but still clearly: “Thank you… Carlos.”

Carlos blew out the candle and softly left the house. Undoubtedly Don Juan wouldn’t remember what he had said tonight, but Carlos would. Forever.


End file.
